The power of fearlessness when standing nude before you.
Without the worry of being seen, as ugly even as ample folds of unattractive, corpulent flesh spilled over the torso. Even as breasts hung, embarrassed by gravity, and thick thighs clung shamefully, awkwardly side by side. It would be foolish and very nearly dishonest to say one found beauty in this.
My body. Vehicle of my accumulated years of anger, pain and rejection. Disgust and self-hate in skin. Emotional baggage worn as a figure, sadly shapeless.
You see nothing of this, remarking with concern instead; ‘with that bad cold, you’d better put some clothes on quickly, baby.’
This, is love.